


If Only In My Dreams

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Series: Wrapped it Myself (even has a little bow on it) [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Lingerie, M/M, Sugardaddy Louis, Top Louis, sugarbaby harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis calls and says he doesn't think he'll be home for Christmas, which is disappointing since Harry's wrapped himself up in a red silk bow for Louis to come home to. Luckily the world according to Louis orbits around his beautiful boy and he's making it home one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only In My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to tumblr user rimmingprincess, for their contribution to my Christmas bow fanart challenge!

Harry is probably the best sugarbaby in the world, if he does say so himself.

Far be it from him to be spoiled and not spoil back; with how insistent Louis is on buying him all manner of ridiculous and expensive things, it would be easy for Harry to let things spiral out of control until everything was so imbalanced that he could never stop owing Louis. He certainly wouldn’t meet any resistance –he could probably ask Louis for a cliff side estate in France and the madman would be thrilled at the opportunity to buy it for him. But Harry is not the type of man to take without giving as good as he gets, so if he can’t shower Louis with gifts on his meager bakery salary, he can certainly make up for it by being the best damn boyfriend he could be.

Most of the time that came in the form of being sweet and responsive and making sure Louis knows that he’s loved and respected. Other times, when Louis is going above and beyond to spoil Harry, it involves something spectacular. Something like dressing up in a silky red lingerie bow to wait for Louis to return from his business trip Christmas night.

It’s a beautiful little number that Harry found on his discount shopping app (which he got because it infuriates Louis that Harry will spend his own money on frivolous items but won’t let Louis do the same). When it arrives he opens the package to find that it’s one long, wide ribbon with instructions on how to tie oneself up. It goes through the legs and around the chest (fitting a little unusually on Harry because _technically_ it’s meant for women) and finishes off with one big bow right in the middle.

He’d known weeks in advance that Louis’ trip to Spain would have him on a flight back to London, arriving around eight in the evening. Personally he thought it was a little ridiculous that the company needed their CEO on Christmas of all days, but unfortunately it appeared as though it couldn’t be helped. Harry tried not to pout too much, because Louis already felt so badly that he was threatening to buy Harry a Mercedes to make up for it.

Just in case Louis was serious about the car, Harry is prepared to fight fire with fire –or lingerie. He figures that he’ll put on the bow and wait at home for Louis to return home Christmas night, and Louis will be so delighted that it’ll offset any comic imbalance caused by whatever extraordinary things he’ll bring home for Harry. It’s a perfect plan, really.

It’s a perfect plan right up until he gets a phone call from Louis around six o’clock Christmas afternoon. “Something came up,” Louis sighs heavily. “This company that we’re trying to merge with is having some sort of crisis because of the changes in consumerism due to the holiday market, and their shares are really unstable –”

“Let’s not pretend like I’m going to understand any of that,” Harry answers stonily, because he knows Louis well enough to know that this is heading to an unhappy end. He can hear the words before they even come out of Louis’ mouth. “Just skip to the point, please?”

“I’m not going to be able to make it home tonight.”

There’s a long pause in which Harry focuses on remaining impassive, ignoring the sinking in his stomach in favor of steady breaths and quietude. “Oh, why’s that?” he asks finally. It sounds impressively calm and collected given the lump in his throat.

“They still need me here in Spain. We have to clean up this company’s mess or it’ll hurt us, too. I’ll be home as soon as crisis is averted, but that’s not going to be until tomorrow at the earliest. I’m so sorry, baby,” Louis adds when Harry doesn’t answer.

“It’s not your fault.” It’s one of the few honest things he can say while still being neutral. “The world doesn’t stop turning on Christmas, you know? They need you because you’re the best at the job.”

Louis is absolutely not fooled. “I’m so, _so_ sorry. I feel fucking awful.”

Every time he says it the lump in Harry’s throat gets bigger, and his nose is starting to run because of the tears pooling in his eyes, but he refuses to sniffle and give himself away. He takes a moment to run his fingers over the silk of his bow, lets the sensation soothe him enough to swallow heartily and say, “Just come home when you can, okay? I love you,” and hang up before his strangled little sob bursts forth.

He doesn’t let himself cry long, because he’s an ugly crier and because he knows logically that this shouldn’t be a big deal. Louis misses Christmas, so what? They could save their presents and exchange them another day. It was just a day on the calendar, not the end of the world.

So he cries for ten minutes, sends an octopus emoji to Louis in reply to his worried and rueful texts, and then just settles in to spend the rest of the evening comforting himself the way responsible, mature adults do; Klondike bars, reality television, and naps. He leaves the bow on because it feels nice on his skin and so do the Egyptian cotton sheets Louis had insisted on buying them in Egypt last year. It probably looks a little silly for him to be wearing something so sexy and doing such mundane things, but what was the point of trying not to look silly if the love of his life wasn’t there to impress?

By seven o’clock Harry is curled up on Louis’ side of the bed in unsettled sleep, dreaming of blue eyes and red bows.

…………………

Harry is probably the worst actor in the world, and Louis is witness to this fact.

When he has to Harry and tell him the bad news, he’s more nervous than tearful until he hears the barely concealed devastation in Harry’s voice. Then he’s just heartbroken. Harry never says out loud that he’s upset of course, but his voice is weak and strained and he hangs up without waiting for Louis to say he loves him too, which in all of their years together has _never_ happened.

Louis sits at the head of the long, empty conference table and sighs as he gestures to his staff that they may enter. Their faces are all just as grim as his, probably because they know who he’s been calling and they know that _you don’t fuck with Louis’ love for Harry._ More than one of them looks downright scared.

“We have some ideas already in the works, Mr. Tomlinson,” one young man is telling him. “We think you’re really going to like some of them.”

Probably not, since this particular young man has a personal philosophy almost opposite of Louis’ and they rarely agree on anything. _I don’t think I can do this,_ Louis thinks to himself. _I don’t think I can sit here and talk about mergers and money when Harry’s out there upset._

Maybe he said it aloud, because the whole board room is looking at him with shame and trepidation. Waiting for an answer Louis doesn’t know yet.

…………………

Harry’s sleeping brain picks up on the sound of footsteps and startles him awake, adrenaline spiking through his system until he feels a soothing hand between his shoulderblades. “Lay back down, baby, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry.” Louis’ soothing voice almost convinces Harry to lay back on his stomach and return to sleep as instructed, until the fog clears from his mind and he realizes _Louis is here._

He rolls over at once and looks up at Louis with startled eyes. “L-louis?”

“Shh, baby, go back to sleep, it’s okay,” Louis continues to murmur. “Sorry I woke you up.”

Harry is having none of it, reaching out to wrap his arms around Louis’ middle where he’s standing by the side of the bed and squeezing him tight, face nuzzled into Louis’ soft stomach. “What are you doing here? The company-”

“Has several hundred employees who all answer to me, and as the CEO I really shouldn’t have to deal with this shit myself anymore,” Louis interrupts, hands carding through Harry’s curls. “I met with my executive staff and told them they could fix the problem or they could turn in their two week’s because I was supposed to have hired a crack team.”

“Is it still Christmas?” Harry mumbles.

“Yeah, baby, it’s about nine o’clock. Hopped the next flight I could.” At last his eyes seemed to have adjusted to the dim lighting and he notices Harry has a single stripe of fabric down his back. “Harry, what’s this you’re wearing?”

The bedside lamp is flicked on. After a brief moment of hesitation Harry releases his hold on Louis and lays back on the bed, timidly adjusting the bow on his front. “I’m meant to be a Christmas present, see?”

Louis' eyes are wide and smile tugging at his lips as he looks hungrily over every inch of Harry’s body. “Baby, you look _so good.”_

“It looked better before I fell asleep. Now it’s kind of wrinkled,” Harry blushes, feeling exposed under Louis’ gaze and reveling in the sensation. “Sorry.”

“You look delicious.” Louis leans in and kisses Harry, gently, passionately, petting his hair as he does.

Harry glows at the compliment. “It’s for you. So when you came home from your business trip I would look good for you.”

“So you’re in my bed being an absolute angel and I was in another country disappointing you,” Louis sighs. “Brilliant. I’m so sorry I was late, baby. I’m so sorry I upset you, making you think I wouldn’t be home at all. You’re so good to me.”

There isn’t a single thing Harry can think of to say, so he just tugs on Louis’ clothes. “Come to bed, please?”

“Of course,” Louis nods, starting to take off his suit jacket. Harry watches as he removes his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt, but he stops him there.

“Let me.” Louis’ hands fall away and Harry reaches for him instead, kneeling on the bed and reaching over the side to pull Louis close and unbuckle his belt. He frees it from the loops and tosses it to the carpet, then unfastens the dress trousers and lets them fall to the floor, too. He tugs Louis closer by his open shirt and reaches down to palm the front of Louis’ boxers and finds a semi –interested, but not demanding.

“Baby, you were asleep, you can go back to bed,” Louis murmurs, but he doesn’t push Harry’s hand away. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“I’m wearing a silk bow, that isn’t pajamas,” counters Harry.  He continues to work his hand slowly over the front of the pants until he can feel Louis getting harder. “I didn’t put it on so you come home and go to sleep.”

“Mmm? What did you have in mind?”

“Come to bed,” Harry whispers again.

This time Louis goes without resistance, climbing in and slotting himself between Harry’s thighs as he leans in to kiss him. “You’re on my side of the bed.”

“Smells like you.” Harry rucks up Louis’ tee shirt with his hands, feeling the planes of his torso like he’s forgotten them in the three days since he’s seen Louis. The man responds eagerly, lowering his hips so that silk ribbon and cotton boxers slide against one another and both of their cocks start to fill up. After a minute Harry tucks his face into Louis’ shoulder and lets Louis nibble at his neck, murmuring his pleasure at each little lick and nip.

“Can I eat you out?” Louis asks quietly, one hand running down to trace his fingers over where the ribbon disappears between Harry’s cheeks. “Wanna make you feel good, make up for today.”

It would probably be a good idea to assure Louis that he doesn’t have to grovel, but if thinking that makes him want to rim Harry then Harry can’t bring himself to speak up. Instead he just wiggles a little to feel fingers pressing against his rim, then maneuvers himself so that he’s laying facedown in the middle of the bed and looking back over his shoulder at Louis. “This good?”

“That’s beautiful,” Louis croons, kneeling behind Harry and kissing down his spine, scooting back as he goes until he gets to the swell of Harry’s bum, at which point he pushes the ribbon aside and presses a kiss there, too. It’s the only warning Harry gets before Louis is pointing his tongue and pushing the tip against Harry’s entrance, warm and wet and Harry is pushing back instinctively.

Normally Louis would tease him a little more, would spank his cheeks for being greedy and refuse to give him more than tiny little licks until he was begging, but tonight his repentance was clear in the way he tongued at Harry’s hole with enthusiasm. Sometimes he would be gentle, with flat licks or little flickering motions, and other times he would use his thumb and push it just a little inside while he sucked on Harry’s rim. It isn’t long until he’s wet and a little loose, looking back at Louis with damp eyes.

Louis takes one look and feels his stomach flip-flop. “Wanna rim you ‘til you cry,” he says lustily, pushing his middle finger in to the second knuckle without any difficulty.

But Harry presses himself back and shakes his head. “Wanna be fucked, Lou.”

“Sure I’ll fuck you. _After_ I see your pretty tears.”

There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Harry puts on his best pouty face and bats his eyelashes back at Louis. “I don’t want to cry any more, Lou, it’s Christmas.”

It’s probably a low move, but Louis is at the nightstand digging through the drawer for lube in a flash. “Anything you want, baby, You can have whatever you want. You want me to fuck you like this?”

Harry appears to think about it for a moment, then rolls over onto his side. “Can I be your little spoon, Lou?”

 _Always,_ Louis wants to answer, but his heart is in his throat. Instead he just sheds his boxers and rolls up the sleeves to his unbuttoned shirt before lying down behind Harry. When Harry props one leg up, Louis can reach down with lube-slick fingers and press two inside, gently stretching him open.

"You know you don't -ah!- have to apologize, right?" Harry murmurs back to Louis as the third finger enters him. "I know you wanted to be here. I'm not mad. So if you're -ah!- fucking me because you feel guilty, you don't have to."

"I'm fucking you because you're gorgeous and the love of my life," Louis answers without hesitation. "Feeling bad might make me tease you less, but it isn't why I want to fuck you, baby."

He holds Harry by the hip as he pushes inside, loving the way Harry groans as he does. This position is almost as good as Harry riding him, what with the way he wiggles and fucks himself back onto Louis' cock. Louis fucks into him, too, fingers gripping tight on his skin.

The random kicks of Harry's legs are getting stronger, and Louis reaches around and slips his hand under the ribbon to take Harry in hand and start pulling him off. The silk runs over the back of his knuckles as he does so. It's a beautiful sensation, but nothing compared to the feel of him clenching around Louis or the little uh-uh-uh he makes on every upstroke.

"Come inside me," Harry pants, "come inside me first. Please? I want to be all full of you-"

Louis needs no further convincing. He slides his free hand into Harry's curls and anchors himself that way, flattening his hand atop the ribbon where it covers Harry's cock and pressing it to his stomach as he fucks in faster. There's a sheen of sweat on Harry's skin when Louis kisses his neck, tonguing at it gently until he feels heat building in his gut and comes with a bite to Harry's shoulder.

Harry feels the stutter of Louis' hips and crows victoriously, reaching back to pull at Louis' bum like he could possibly press any closer as he comes. Louis' hand in his hair is tight, but he's still shuddering with orgasm as he slips his hand back under the ribbon and starts pulling Harry off once more. It isn't long before Harry is coming too, spilling over Louis' hand and feeling it smear all over his stomach and the bow with Louis' movements.

"I'm so glad I came home," Louis pants, pulling out and reaching down to replace the ribbon over Harry's hole. "Sorry I messed up your outfit, baby, I'll sort you back out," he adds cheekily.

"Ruin it all you like, it was well-worth it. Although when this dries the silk probably won't feel as nice." Harry wiggles back closer to Louis' chest with a nonetheless contented sigh.

"Could go take a shower, do presents while it's still Christmas."

Harry shakes his head. "Let's do it tomorrow, yeah? We'll wake up and treat the whole day like it's Christmas. I wanna do it properly with you. The date doesn't matter."

Louis knows that probably this isn't strictly true, but he also knows that Harry hung the moon so if he says tomorrow is Christmas, then call it Christmas Eve. "Does that mean you're going to lay in bed all pretty for me again?"

He can feel Harry's shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Don't have another bow..."

"Don't have to wrap yourself up for me," Louis murmurs, rising up on one elbow so he can lean in and kiss Harry's plump lips. "I already know you're a gift, baby. My favorite one every year."

_Art courtesy of rimmingprincess \ tumblr_

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this one is a little late, I've come down with a flu (again) just in time for Christmas. Hope more Harry in a bow makes your day bright ^_^
> 
> Canonlarry | tumblr


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